Embraced in shadow, Vax'ildan watched. He watched as his team made their way to the scourge they were to free Vasselheim from. He watched his sister ride atop Trinket, leading the pack.
He watched as Grog marched alongside her, firebrand warhammer leaning on his shoulder, ablaze to light the way.
He watched Scanlan and Pike walking together, the former trying so hard to impress the latter, telling of his escapade as a triceratops in Whitestone as she giggled at his silliness.
He watched Keyleth hang back, body language subdued and sad.
Watched Percy gently place a hand on her shoulder.
"It's okay," he heard the gunslinger say softly. "We'll avenge him."
As a rogue, the shadows had always his home. He knew from Pike that souls could not move on if they had unfinished business, and he knew his shade would never rest while his sister, his family, were in danger.
He remembered battles fought together, recalled the beast that had torn him asunder. He remembered the instant of burning agony followed by a blissful nothing. He remembered hearing his sister cry out in feral rage. He remembered watching them inter his body in a mausoleum alongside the bodies of Emon's great heroes.
He remembered being tied to Vox Machina, even in death he couldn't be rid of these goons. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
JE LEEST
Multifandom Oneshot Book
FanfictieI'm an impulsive writer, this is my brain dump There WILL be heavily triggering moments in here so proceed with caution.
